


To Accept Defeat

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anger, Bitterness, Broken Families, Confusion, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies, Explanations, In which Jameson gets s h o o k, Insults, Introspection, Mid-Canon, Minor Violence, Multiple Selves, Passive-aggression, Post-Divorce, Protectiveness, Rants, Stress, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Watch Out For The Quiet Ones, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Jameson doesn’t appreciate how Chase is treated by Stacy and while it’s in the nature of a gentleman to keep his nose out of other people’s business, there comes a point where he can’t stay silent anymore.





	To Accept Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Some of my readers asked what it would be like if Jameson got really, genuinely angry and what it would be about. I obliged them with this...

Jameson wasn’t one to get angry—or if he was, he was adept at hiding it. The ability to internalize was something he had apparently inherited from Jack but even if that hadn’t been the case, he was almost entirely confident that he would have done it anyway. A gentleman maintained a sense of dignity and composure where no one else could. When anger got the better of a man, it brought out the worst in him and frankly, Jameson didn’t want that for himself.

The situation with Stacy, however, was making it increasingly difficult to remember that.

While Jameson had been informed by Chase himself about his broken family, he had never actually gotten to see it for himself until recently. Usually when Chase got an opportunity to see the kids, he would drive to Stacy’s house to pick them up and bring them back here. A scheduling conflict, however, had forced a change, bringing Stacy to Egos Incorporated for the first time since Jameson had been created. It would be this way for the next three months and by all accounts, Stacy wasn’t particularly pleased about it.

Jameson had been somewhat puzzled to see Chase bolting around the house, sweeping scattered magazines into a perfectly square pile on the edge of the coffee table and frenziedly scrubbing the dishes in the sink that just yesterday he had said he didn’t care about. By the time the older Ego started adjusting the dining room chairs so each of them were exactly one foot apart, Jameson’s curiosity had become too great.

 **“Whyfor…?”**  he began, leaning forward to grab his attention and gesturing vaguely at the chairs.

“Oh, it’s just—” Chase paused for only a moment, flashing him a hurried, strained smile. “Stacy just wants to know things look fine for the kids. Speakin’ of which, I better freshen up! If the doorbell rings while I’m in the bathroom, let me grab it, okay? Well, actually, she won’t wanna be kept waiting, so maybe—Uhh—just come and get me if you hear them!” With that he rushed away, leaving a thoroughly perplexed Jameson in his wake as he dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Chase wasn’t one to fuss over the small details and it wasn’t as if Stacy intended to stay. Why would he go to so much trouble for an interaction that would likely only last moments?

 _Ever so peculiar!_  As soon as the bell rang and Chase burst out of the bathroom to answer it, however, Jameson didn’t have any time to think about it. Chase realized halfway to the door that he still had his comb clutched in one hand and he glanced hurriedly around, tossing it onto the table before pulling the door open.

“Hey, you two!” he exclaimed, scooping up Connor and Brianna in a hug that Jameson knew could never properly tell them how much he loved them. “Wow, you’re getting so big! Have you grown half a foot since I last saw you?!”

“You saw us last month, Daddy,” Connor laughed, to which Chase tutted and kissed his head.

“Yeah, well, a lot can happen in a month! You and your sister go say hi to Jameson while I talk with your mom, okay?”

Just as they should, Jameson and the kids exchanged brief, polite greetings, making small talk for a few moments before they ran down the hall to go play. It was then that JJ caught the last of Stacy and Chase’s conversation.

“…and remember to make Connor wear his allergy wristband if you go out to eat,” Stacy was saying. “Actually, no. If you have Schneeplestein cooking like you did last time, you should probably have him wearing it at all times. And…” There she looked past him, hazel eyes narrowing at the dining room table. “Well. I guess I should’ve expected you to leave your comb where you  _eat_ , but try to make sure neither of them get into the habit.”

Chase flinched at that, almost imperceptibly, and gave her nothing but a tight nod. As soon as the door closed, the vlogger heaved a deep sigh, tousling his freshly combed hair back to its natural state, and Jameson felt something crestfallen turn in his chest at the sight.

 **“You…you did some handy work in record time, Da,”**  he ventured as Chase trudged back to the table, snatching up his wayward comb.  **“You made the place spick-and-span, for the most part!”**

“Yeah…‘for the most part’ doesn’t really cut it for her,” Chase muttered resignedly.

* * *

The second time they visited, Jameson did his best to help Chase as he scrambled around the house for his cleanup. The two of them were able to tackle much more than Chase would have alone; given that last night had been movie night, there was a more substantial mess for them to take care of. As they worked, Jameson could feel his own stress peaking as he thought of what Stacy had said to Chase last time. Out of all the clean and presentable area, she had pinpointed that one small detail that would leave Chase at fault! He didn’t want that to happen again.

He was certain, however, that if it did, the others would be able to speak up for him. They were all home this time and Jameson already had a sense that Marvin and Dr. Schneeplestein were on less than savory terms with Stacy. Neither of them were prone to keeping quiet when something displeased them, so if she tried any funny business, they would be there.

Jameson was relieved to see that the kids were just as excited to visit Chase again as he was to have them. He had a feeling they missed him more than they would say—or were allowed to say—in front of their mom and the hugs they shared with their dad at the door did all three of them good.

As he’d expected, Jackieboy got the privilege of the next hug, hefting them both up in his arms at once and spinning them around, earning gleeful whoops from the both of them before Brianna wriggled away and lunged at the doctor, latching onto him around the waist and already chattering excitedly about watching him work. Jameson smiled distractedly at the sight, but he was more preoccupied with glancing sideways to see what Chase and Stacy where doing. Marvin too was watching them intently.

“Alright, just try not to crowd them! You’ll have them burnt out and asking to come home within the first ten minutes if you keep suffocating them like that,” Stacy was protesting as she gestured to Jackieboy and Schneep. The older two Egos looked up at that and the kids quieted, uncertainly sliding onto the floor. Jameson swallowed hard to see them glancing between their parents, already watching for the signs of a fight.

“We’re not  _crowding_  them, okay? We’re just happy to see them,” Chase explained evenly, though there was an edge to his voice that was simultaneously comprised of annoyance and pleading.

“Well, don’t get too excited,” Stacy shot back. “It’s only for three nights.”

“Don’t you think I  _know_  that?! You don’t have to tell me, I’m more than aware!” Chase snapped, glancing down and to the side only a moment after the words left his mouth, as if he already regretted them. Stacy simply shifted her weight back, raising her eyebrows and tsking wordlessly. She didn’t need words; her disapproval and self-righteousness were made more than clear in that one gesture.

Wide-eyed, Jameson glanced around at the others, expecting one of them— _any_  of them to speak up. Jackieboy pressed his lips tightly together, carding a hand through Connor’s hair, and Schneep kept his eyes low, squeezing Brianna’s shoulder and suggesting in a soft voice that they go to his lab and see what work had to be done. As they made a hurried exit, Jameson looked past them to Marvin. He of all people would—

He  _wouldn’t?_  Beneath his mask, the magician’s face was flushed with anger and his jaw was working up a storm, but he said nothing. How could that be? Jameson wondered, aghast, as Chase managed an uncomfortable goodbye and shut the door with more force than was strictly necessary, turning on his heel and forcing a wan smile at Connor, who stayed at Jackieboy’s side even as Chase approached.

“S-Sorry about that, buddy,” he offered tentatively. “Your mom’s a little stressed, I think. But, uh, I think Jackieboy’s got some new action figures. You wanna check ’em out?” Connor nodded apprehensively, though at the very least Jameson was glad that he didn’t hesitate to take Chase’s hand when he held it out. As they ducked into Jackieboy’s room, Jameson caught the hero’s arm before he could follow.

 **“Jackieboy! I—I can’t say I understand,”**  he stammered.  **“Why does Chase allow Ms. Sullivan to speak to him that way? Why did none of you—?”**

“Well…I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to explain,” Jackieboy admitted, hesitating for a moment or two as if to find the right words. “The short answer is that it’s not our place, and if we try to argue with Stacy she’ll be more than happy to. She always has to have the last word and won’t stop until she has it, so it’s useless to try reasoning with her. More importantly, it hurts Chase to see us fighting with her.”

 **“But for her to do it in front of the little ones!”**  Jameson protested, planting his hands on his hips incredulously.  **“What’s to happen when they’re no longer little britches, when they reach that nasty stage of rebellion, and they believe it’s alright to treat their father this way because their mum has modeled it for them? It’s not right, not in the least!”**

“We know, Jameson, but Chase has to choose to stand up for himself when he’s ready. It’s  _his_  job to decide what he tells his kids about the situation,” the older Ego stated. “We can’t do it for him. They are their parents and what they model for their kids is what they choose to.”

Glowering, Jameson moved his hands from his hips to his chest, folding them tightly as he countered sharply,  **“It wasn’t Chase’s choice to model _divorce_  for them.”**

He could only be slightly satisfied at the startled expression that came over Jackieboy’s face; it only lasted for a few seconds before he wordlessly shook his head and drifted toward the other room to join Chase and Connor.

Left on his own to think, Jameson fretted and simmered.

* * *

He had truly done his best to forget about it, to process through it, to convince himself that it was for the best if he didn’t interfere. He had repeated Jackieboy’s words to himself more times than he could count, trying to reason with them—trying to tell himself that they were the truth. Every single time, he failed with the simple realization that it just wasn’t right.

The divorce itself wasn’t right. Perhaps the marriage hadn’t been right, but the divorce  _certainly_  wasn’t. In Jameson’s mind, it was black and white: women were meant to respect their husbands and men were meant to cherish their wives. They were meant to communicate, acknowledge differences and discover similarities. Where had Chase and Stacy gone wrong? If they were ever really in love, shouldn’t they have found it easy to respect, support and cherish each other?

Had they ever been in love?

Jameson couldn’t speak for that. He was young, too young. He had never gotten the chance to see them when they were together; all he could see was the aftereffect, the damage it had done to Chase’s heart, and it broke his own.

He didn’t know Stacy’s side of the story. Perhaps he was judging her too harshly when it came to the terms and circumstances of the divorce, but whatever they were, they couldn’t have been any excuse for treating Chase the way she did now.

 _In front of the children, no less!_  He just couldn’t get it out of his mind. Connor and Brianna were sweet children; every time Jameson looked at them, he could see Chase in their smiles and their eyes. The thought of them ever treating someone the way their mother treated Chase made him feel sick.

That same stomach-turning dread was pooling thick in his stomach as he watched Chase allow the children past him. He hadn’t hugged them for quite as long this time, Jameson noted, resisting the urge to chew on his lower lip. Was it because he wanted to get rid of Stacy sooner, so he couldn’t spare more time for it?

“So I heard you and Connor had a lot of fun playing in the backyard last time,” Stacy remarked to Chase with a lightness in her tone that Jameson wasn’t used to hearing from her. It only made him tense. Chase managed to keep his composure better than Jameson did, leaning against the doorframe and loosely folding his arms.

“Yeah, we did,” he concurred warily. “What’s that got to do with—?”

“I just want to remind you, Chase, that we can afford better things now than we could when you were working for us. I didn’t appreciate having him come home with his thirty-dollar pair of jeans muddy and torn up in the knees!”

“Look, I did my best to wash them, but the stains wouldn’t come out,” Chase complained.

“Your  _best?_  What exactly is your best?” Stacy demanded. “Did you only put them through the wash once because you were busy with other things? When they’re with you, it seems like you’re only willing to get your hands dirty when you’re having  _fun!_  That hasn’t changed a bit!”

“I said I was sorry, Mama,” Connor piped up weakly, going unheard as he shrank close to his sister. Brianna simply kept her head ducked, tugging on her brother’s hand to drag him down the hall and find some kind of escape.

“Look, this is stupid,” Chase huffed. “I’ll put ’em through twice if that’s what you want—”

“I want to know that you’re actually taking care of them! I mean, let’s hope you’re not taking care of them the way you take care of yourself!” Stacy scoffed, throwing up her hands. “Look at you! At the very least, the  _house_  is clean but you look like you haven’t showered in four days and just standing here for three minutes, I can already smell the whiskey on you!”

“Stacy—” Chase’s voice hitched on her name and he took a hurried breath, taking a few steps back and gripping the edge of the door so he could swing it shut more easily. “Stacy, I don’t want to argue with you, okay? I just want—”

“You want to pretend that everything’s perfect, like you used to?” Stacy spat. “Well, fine, I’ll let you live in your little fantasy but you’re nowhere  _near_  perfect, Chase. Try to actually be responsible with them this time!”

**“ _Enough!_ ”**

The outburst was silent, so it didn’t have the thunder behind it that commanded respect, but both Chase and Stacy fell back a step when the speech slide burst into view between them. The rush of anger that went straight to Jameson’s chest was so hot and so fast that it was enough to make him lightheaded as he stalked onto the scene, steering Chase back a few more feet so he could stand in his place.

 **“I have done my best to be an appropriate bystander and hold my tongue the past few times you’ve come here,”**  he growled, bristling at her. **“I’m not one to insult the fairer sex but I simply—I can’t _stand_  for this! Chase may take your insults quietly but I have a few of my own for you! You are the most impetuous, incorrigible, and immature woman I’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing and you have absolutely no right to treat him as you do. You’re a fribble and a fussbudget! I understand now why you and Chase were incompatible—it’s because you can’t see the good in  _anything_. You’re superficial and petty!”**

“Jem, stop!” Chase gasped, pulling on his shoulder to get his attention and promptly being smacked off.

**“I’ve known Chase for less than a year and I already know far more of him than you ever could! You make it out to be as if _he_ left  _you!_  Since you left, he’s wanted nothing more than a second chance to prove that he could be a good husband and father, that he could do better than he did, but you never  _give_  him that chance! You tear him down every time you see him because you’re afraid that sometime you might come and he might meet your standards! You might realize that you made a mistake! Oh, but you could never admit that. You always find something else to natter about because you’ll never be content!**

**“To put it plainly, madam, I _hope_  you’re never content. I hope you continue to be unhappy, making the world around you unhappy and wondering why nothing works out as you want it to, and I hope you come to realize  _far too late_  that it’s because you didn’t keep a loving, loyal, honorable man when you had the chance!”** Tugging shortly on the hem of his vest, Jameson shifted his weight back and forth testily, staring her down under the brim of his hat.  **“You’re nowhere near perfect either, you unreasonable biddy, and that’s why you don’t deserve him. You never did.”**

The room behind him had fallen into silence during his rant, which made Chase’s shaky “Jameson…” all the louder to his ears. He shifted, glanced sternly and unrepentantly at his father-figure and then nearly stumbled backward into him as the force of Stacy’s hand caught him across the face. Cursing, Chase automatically lunged to catch him as he pressed a hand to his stinging cheek, gripping his shoulders tightly in a simultaneous attempt to hold him steady and hold him back.

“What d’you know?” Stacy spat, shaking her hand and then clenching it with the other at her sides. “I guess even the dumb can’t shut up sometimes. Try translating that to him, Chase.”

 **“You are _poisonous_ ,”** Jameson hissed, breaking free of Chase’s arms just long enough to slam the door in her face.


End file.
